


Ugh!

by TypicalRAinbow



Category: The Worst Witch (TV), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Sickfic, snugglefic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-23
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-03-14 19:37:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 18
Words: 13,983
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3423137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TypicalRAinbow/pseuds/TypicalRAinbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Poor Miss Drill is ill and ‘snot happy. Constance on the other hand is feeling perfectly fine if stuck playing Nurse. Well, for now at least.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Finally getting around too posting fics up on ao3  
> I love writing HB and the staff arguing. It amuses me no end coming up with insults for her to exchange but even though it’s not my forte, fluffy sappy romance is my other amusement. Coming up hideously cheesy pet names that they would realistically probably despise me for was fun too. Rated T for a few cheeky comments and foul words but too Mills and Swoon I mean Boon. Hope you enjoy it *hides*  
> “Well, you can’t get what you want, but you can get me/So let’s set up and see…  
> ‘Cause you are my medicine/ When you’re close to me .  
> When you’re close to me…”  
> (GORILLAZ Melancholy Hill)

If anyone was to be found out of bed scuttling about upstairs at Overblow Castle, the poor girl in question would have probably stuffed her ears with cotton wool so there would be no point shouting at her to get back to bed. And she wouldn’t be the only one. All the poorly things were sick to death of the continuous headache causing sound of nauseous wheezing coughing sniffling moaning groaning and even a little bit of dry wrenching and oozing sounds filling the dorms ; a total contrast then to where as downstairs, the usual hive of activity encased in classrooms, was so quiet you could have heard a pin drop. Or a deputy head quietly muttering to herself.  
Miss Hardbroom wasn’t going crazy... well, as of yet. Far from it she liked to think herself as the most sensible member of staff; she just currently had no one to complain aloud to, as they all upstairs. So left alone to her own devices in the lab, Constance let a something between a sigh and a snort of annoyance that would have earned a pupil a hundred lines of “I must not make inappropriate inpatient and impenitent noises in class.” Potions, as she taught and believed, required the right ingredients and a large helping of patience. But she was fairly quickly running out of both.

"I'm sure I had more Bramble root left over then that." she complained quietly putting the jar away. She returned to the thick volume where she‘d been quadruple checking the recipe of a cure all potion she‘d known off by heart since her adolescence and looked back up to the benches where five large cauldrons bubbled away, each at different stages of the same said potion. Four of them would be total useless until tomorrow or very late this evening if she was lucky, depending on how long it took cool in colder conditions and what time Hogs&Harrocks managed to bother delivering. With everything at the castle coming to a standstill practically overnight, HB hadn’t had a chance to fully replenish the potion stock herself or enough time to gather and dry honey suckle leafs or bramble roots, which would be quite a while given dank state of the castle and its woodlands. and it didn't help with Miss Bat wasting ingredients with her own remedies, mostly made from her grandmothers recipes rather than a standardised book of potions. 

It also didn’t help it’s was still raining in bucketing gloomy down pour for a sixth day on the trot, months after Sir Walter’s wet week. It made the castle seem even colder and draftier then normal. HB didn't notice the small difference really but to her pupils it felt like the beginning of January not the end of April, the especially those unfortunates who'd been out in rain cross countrying when the bad weather hit.

“So much for fresh air and sport being good for your health” she grumbled to no one. Then again with everything going on, if Imogen hadn’t also been out in the rain and wasn’t sick Constance doubted she’d have a chance to see her honestly- -arn't-I-a-bit-old-to-be-called-your-"girl"friend at all. Miss Drill had kept complaining they’d both been so rushed off their feet as late. Well, she’d sort of gotten her wish for some time for themselves. It didn’t mean either of them had to be grateful.


	2. Chapter 2

A strong smell of well-done petals sticking to the copper bottom brought her back to her senses and Constance busied herself with the last ingredients. Finally there was a pop and a hiss and after what seemed more time than it should have taken, the potion was ready. Constance measured in to numinous small bottles counted out what was needed plus a couple spare and set the remainder aside to keep for later on. Extinguishing the heat and putting lids on the other left till lukewalm, Constance made doubly sure to lock the door behind her this time and headed upstairs with her bottles all neat in rows on a tray for what seemed far more than the third time that day.

Usually there was only one thing worse than a student with flu, and that was an epidemic of students with flu. Now Constance had discovered that a school full of sick girls would have been easier to handle then compared to her current situation of not just the bit-more-then-half but not-quite-two-thirds percentage of the students confined to bed and setting aside work so them so they could catch when they were better.

Also not only was she playing witch-doctor, continuing her normal duties of a deputy and teacher but Frank, Imogen and Amelia, the only three members of staff that Constance could normally rely on even if it was in a very roundabout way, had come down with the virus. This left her with only Bat and Ms Tapioca and the dwindling restless bored and boisterous but otherwise healthy young witches for company, making sure that they espesilly those from her form not effected by illness where getting on with their studies rather than up to mischief. 

She’d already had to dispose of a smuggled mini tool kit and bits unknown gadgetry brought in by Ruby; deprived Drusilla of three bags of toffees on three separate occasions (“just where was she getting them from?” Constance thought. “More to the point how on earth was the scrawny girl able to put all that rubbish away?”); confiscate numinous comics, gossip magazines and a issue of PlayWitch that the girls had been studying rather than the books they were supposed to be reading not just using to hide the banned reading material in- and frankly, the less said about Fenella and Griselda, the better…   
Pests.  
It was all enough to make Constance wonder why she'd even bothered becoming a teacher in the first place, particully at a boarding school. Certainly not for the paychecks. Still, she had a duty to uphold.

Starting with the Worst Witch then moving down the dorms, Constance made an impressive sight as always, striding down the corridors in upright matronly fashion despite the black dress and the bat emblazed across the chest of her apron. the tray of remedy potions floating along obediently behind her, as one cannot stride or operate locked doors with an armfuls of jingling glass bottles.

She spent the next hour and a half making sure Mildred had drunken plenty of water, ignoring Crowfeather’s whining in favour treating Jadu’s migraine and putting down Ethel threats of what’d happen when-her-father-heard-about-this as feverous disillusions. She also shooed a worried Maud from skulking around her friends room’s deciding an essay would help in reminding the girl she was not immune to illness, found someone to cover for Mr Blossom’s cleaning duties on discovering Enid was faking the flu with a mild touch of self administered magic lurgy, argued with Ms Tapioca wether it was really nessary to take a rather amushed Ameila a slice of cheese cake with every cup of tea and pointed out she orgt to be making a start on lunch rather then fussing over Frank or any ‘Bambinos’ and reassured (well tried to reassure) Miss Bat they where not going to all die a horrible death nor where they suffering from the pluage (she tried, then gave up very quickly!); along with summoning drinks and compresses for those who needed it, Subtly fluffing pillows, magically sealing rooms that where too drafty and replenishing blankets to threadbare to aid bed rest.

Not that she’d tell anyone about that last bit of coarse, couldn’t have the girls thinking she was going soft on them because they were sick.


	3. Chapter 3

Twenty seven down and one to go. With the last bottle of potion for a gym loving lover, Constance thought smirking at her own little joke, hoping the other two members of staff wouldn’t fall ill quite just yet if only so it meant she wasn’t cooking on top of her other dutyies as well. Constance picked up the singular full vile off the tray and gazed at it, double checking its color and consisentcy out of habit rather than need. 

And yet every time she made to check on Imogen, something else came up. Gloria Newt for example rushing down the hall to inform her Harriet had thrown up or an explosion from the library that sounded surpsilly the remaining first years getting into bother. (They had and now had five hundred lines a piece of "Miss Hardbroom dosn't care who did it, under no circumstances I must not lock myself and my classmates in storerooms" and a bill for Sybil's father to cover the cost of repairing the double doors and a book case would be on it’s way tomorrow morning.)

Now with the small bottles cool glass against her fingers Constance was finally satisfied she’d done all she could making sure the students were they all were and on the way to recovery slash half convinced she’d done enough and the school was still going to rack and ruinanyway, and thought she could have just a minate to herself. That wasn't that indulgent or introvertly unsocial was it?

She compromised, and for thirty whole seconds half forced herself to take deep breaths think calm happy thoughts; as the PE teacher and Miss Cackle had bullied her into taking on board, one of the few things she found actully worked but wasn't going to tell them about her faverote book, crisp fresh snow, Imogen’s cheeky grin, the first herb picking of the term, Orcid root, those beautiful green eyes, Morgana by the fireside, how Imogen’s hair had accdently turned a pale pink after the bubble gum incident, that time Mildred Hubble got an A on a potions test, the recipe to Amortentia, her and Imogen’s second kiss, a good cup of tea... 

That would do. She felt more relaxed then she had all day. Time to go see how the fair and fairly poorly Imogen was fairing. Constance felt a little guilty of not having seen her yet but if she'd seen her first she wouldn't have had the heart to leave her. Of course the girls came first anyway but if they needed her now after this they could jolly well wait their turn for a change. 

Had anyone been watching, they would have seen their teacher push herself off the wall she'd been leaning on and with wave of hand see the empty bottles on the tray suddenly replaced with a cup of tea on a saucer. They’d see her place the potion bottle down along side it before HB vanished, to reappear at Imogen drill’s quarters where the door had been left ajar. Of corse no one did see as Constance always double-double checked she wasn’t being followed.


	4. Chapter 4

Constance knocked gently as she entered the bedroom, the tray nudging it’s way in after before Constance closed the door behind her, briskly as ever but a lot more quietly than normal. Even so the click of the latch was enough to cause Imogen to stir.

“Const-? That you?” she mumbled sleepily, rubbing her eyes and rolling on to her side.   
“Who else?” the witch retorted in a half whisper, hitching her skirts up to step over the yoga mat. the tray floated ahead, setting it’s self on the bedside table and the teeting pile of sports magazines, half-read books and assembled junk collenion a bedside table acquires. “sorry I didn’t mean to wake you, I could come back later if you wish-”

“I couldn’t sleep anyway,” Imogen yawned pushing herself up from the pillows wiping her nose with a fist full tissues, sitting up in bed with a charterisic (if half asleep) half smile although it didn’t dazzle as normal. “Good day, Honey? Everyone behaving themselves?”  
“No.” Constance sniffed taking a seat by the bed as well as Imogen’s free hand in hers and promising that today she wouldn‘t complain at the PE teacher calling her by silly petnames. Probably the least Imogen deserved. 

A careful once over look showed despite the slight red tinge to her nose and eyes, underneath the dubled over dublesized duvet Imogen had had the forsight to pack (somehow) from her home or the soft as ababy’sblanket fleecey jumper pulled over her pyjammas both of which were hanging off her sholders seemed baggier then normal. (Only slightly but enough for HB to worry if the gym teacher was losing wieght); Imogen was as pale as her tanned skin would allow. Coupled with the scatchie throat and blocked nose she didn't sound good ethier. All of this Constance processed with in a second of sitting down.

“how are you?” Constance asked tentivly. “Dare I hope-?”  
Her hopes (and slightly sarcastic questioning) where dashed as Imogen attempeted to awncer but suddenly began coughing and Sneezing in to one of multible Keenexs. Constance cringed slightly and lightly rubbed her on the back, her lace hanky chief momentarily covering her own mouth. 

“Bloody awful.” Was all Imogen was able to say in-between coughs before collapsing back on to the pillows with a frustrated groan. “I’m all hot -Ow! Constance please don’t- hot an’ sore.”

“you do sound dreadful.” Constance replyed, popping a thermometer into her sweet hearts normally well-spoken mouth and feeling her forehead and cheeks, wishing to find some sign of improvement as she let the back of her hand linger a few moments longer then really necessary, “and not just your foul language. That’ll teach you for going running in the rain without a coat.”   
“How am I to know if and when the weather reports going to be wrong?” Imogen grumbled. which was actually very hard to do with such devise clicking against her teeth. she absently reached up and gave the witches hand a squeeze as the themoitor was removed, frowned at then vanished. “Bet it‘s a wizards fault. You shouldn’t catch stupid colds in the middle of summer term.”


	5. Chapter 5

“It’s not a cold, it’s the flu.” Constance scolded leaning her elbows on the matress, as Miss Drill made herself more comfortable . “And as for cross country in the rain-”  
“it wasn’t supposed to be cloudy alone let alone stormy HB.“ Imogen snapped, pulling the duvet up in an attempt to keep the chill from her neck and ears, knowing she was in for a lecture. She was right.

“That’s not the point.” Constance reprimanded. Again. “You were already coming down with the flu- don’t look at me like that Imogen you know you where- and yet you still took a few silly paraceatmol and then the remaining girls out for an outdoor survial lesson. You came back dripping wet again then went strait from the staffroom to your next lesson, even though you let the girls get changed and rearranged your next lesson to be indoors. “

“Alright alright don't remind me. You just keep up with nagging and taking the moral highroad know it all mickey, Hardbroom. karma will come and-” Imogen statred, sitting up and paused to sneeze.  
“bless you.”  
“thank you. But you just keep taking the mickey Hardbroom, karma will come and knock you off your broomstick.”   
“Karma can try but I can assure you, it sharen’t suceed." Constance smirked giving Imogen’s pink nose a playful little tap earning her that little scowl. She still wasn’t quite sure what it was about the non-witch that would occasionally made her act in little spontaious bursts so diverly from the image she’d moulded her self into over her lifetime. Even when Imogen was being dramatic, screwing her eyes tight shut and crashishing back on the bed in a huff. "I’ve earned far to many brownie points but-" Constance said leaning over to tuck her back in to bed, "Unlike you I know There’s a diffrence admirably soldiering on and just being a fool on the edge of collapse."

"I don’t believe that at all, Miss Cackle has to bully you into taking days off."  
"That’s different-"  
"Of corse it is.” the blonde sniffeld.   
"What I mean is, if you’d not insisted on trying to ignore it and carry on in sopping wet clothes then you wouldn’t have made matters worse for yourself -”   
“you weren‘t complaining at the time,” Miss Drill muttered, loud enough to be heard and for the potions teacher to decline comment on wet t-shirts. She opened her eyes stiffly. 

“…How are they?”  
“I assume you mean the students.” Imogen nodded and made to sit up again. Constance rolled her eyes but helped her up. Rather unnecessary really but so was leaving her hang stroking the back of Imogen’s neck and she still did that.

“The girls will survive. No vast improvement as of yet but the some of the third years almost fully recovered. They just have aches pains and headaches now rather than a full blown virus. But seems to be the rest of staff who are taking their time getting better-"

"I didn't bloody choose to get sick!" Imogen said indgnently. “I was helping out until you bullied me back to bed.”

"I know you didn't. And that wasn't a dig at you, I did say rest of staff. Quite clearly. Mr Blossom’s come down with it too."  
" oh, right. Really? I'm sure they don't mean too. Poor Frank."  
"Hmm Miss Cackle and Mr Blossom seem to be taking full advantage of bed rest and Mrs Tapioca's is hardly helping."  
“Must be your brilliant bedside manner.” This could have been an innocent offhand comment but Constance caught the flicked flirty look in her girlfriend’s eyes.   
“Imogen?”  
“stop me feeling awful and I'll happily be able to help you out, Nurse.”   
“Not in that way, for goodness sake Miss Drill! Must you start playing around with unnecessary and poor excuses for inuendos now?”   
Imogen huffed and shifted out of the witches reach pulling the blankets up and over her head. “Imogen- Don’t be difficult, my dear.“   
A rude salute was the only response she got before Imogen returned to turtle mode.  
"That's not only rude but childish too." Constance sighed with a roll of her eyes, getting up and Sitting back down next to ball on the bed. "Imogen come out from there I didn't mean to snap. well not so loud at any rate." the duvet turtle hesitated then shuffed closer. "I'm not going to hold a convosation with your bedlinen."  
The witch tried to push her back and Imogen complied rolling over back onto her back, her little blonde spikes emergered from the blankets now wrapped around her sleeping bag style.   
"Fiiiine I’m moving. Guess it wasn't needed." She muffled curling around the witch pulling herself out a little futher. "if it wasn't needed what are you grinning then?"  
"You, obvisiouly.” She chuckled stroking the blonde hair. ”you're in a tangle with your sheets, you look a sausage roll... or a caterpilliar."  
"Great." Imogen scowled, shiftingon to her sidewriggling one arm free with a jab. "As if I didn’t feel bad enough I’m now being compared to a Greggs' pastrie."  
"Or a caterpillar.” The witch reiterated. “A rather pretty caterpillar Imight add."  
"Oh Cons- bug off!" Imogen sniffed with a smile, one that Constance was glad to see and returned it, finding a sparkle in those sleepy green eyes if only for a moment. Taking one of Drill’s hand in hers again She let her other continue move over the yellow hair making her movements more gentle; stroking walm cheeks, the soft skin up and down her toned arm and back, thinking how she could happily drown in those damn eyes…


	6. Chapter 6

Imogen suddenly tensed and the brunette flinched worried she’d hurt her somehow. Normally such attention from Constance was rare and so cherished and relished. But now rather than preening Imogen winced and squirmed-   
“You’re uncomfortable." Constance said stating the obvious and felt her lovers fore head.  
"I’m fine." Imogen lied and was subseently glared at. "Alright, maybe a bit." she muttered, stretching out her legs so they hung sideways off the bed. Constance failed to see how that made it any better. “it’s not you, love I’m just- just sore. Could never be cause of you."  
"Be because of. Even when dieing from influwena you’re still a gramical incorrect romantic."  
Imogen rolled over (well her top half anyway) and dropped herself about the witches hips with a groan. “Can’t you just kiss it better now?” she mumbled into the dress.  
“Metoricafolly or do you mean magic everything better? Well I could but that’d mean not only you moving from your oh so apperntly compy spot but also you passing on the virus and then there’s repocussion of the foster effect. Not to mention explaining to everyone why you get special treatment. And then I’ll get sick as well so I sharn’t.” Imogen’s sudden disbelieving look was met with an arched eyebrow. “Sorry. You can kiss me when you’re better so the sooner you recover the sooner I’ll kiss you. How’s that for an insentive?”   
"Awful.” Imogen replied agast, “Not even one...? Not even if I add that I always like the apron looks. Did you wear it especially for me?”  
Constance jerked, much to a snickering Imogen’s amusement and twisted around to swat away the non witches wandering hand.  
“Off! I’m not kissing you and making it all better! If I kiss you it’ll be all well and good for two minutes-“  
“only two?”  
“Until suddenly I come down with this godforsaken virus, what if I get sick from kissing you?”  
“If you do we could share a sick bed that’s what couples do.” Imogen flipping back to her previous postion. “My god, if you’re so sure that you’re not going to get sick being here and helping around the castle-!”  
“I’m not kissing you.”  
“Oh for fu-aachtiso! Ugh-Sake.”  
“Bless you. And I’m defiantly not kissing you now.”  
Imogen gave her another sniffle scowl over the top of the tissue and then changed her tune. “Actually, I take it back. You’re right No kisses no making magic. please don’t get sick.”  
“If you’re trying to use reverse psychology, that isn’t going to work.”  
“No, just don’t want you catch this flu bug. You wouldn’t like it.”  
“Really? You do surprise me.”   
“I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Not even Mr Shallow Hallow or Heliboring."  
“They’d be even more irratining then useal.” the witch mused and turned back with something akin to a fond smirk. “you’re the only woman I know who’ll use nicknames as curses and viseversa.”   
“Shut up Hotstuff.” Imogen grumbled in to the duvet “Ooh my head. I’m sick of being sick! It isn’t fair, I eat healthily, I exercise, I wrap up warm, I even take extra vitiams-“  
“I know, sweet, I know.” Constance sighed deciding not to point out Imogen’s early Karma remarks. She could save that for when Imogen was less bedridden.   
“I want to go for a run but my legs feel like lead! I want to go back to work-!“ Imogen complained as she sat up, only to flop back the other way face first in to the pillows. “Scratch that,” she contined if somewhat muffled. “I just want to sleep and be able to use my head again.“  
“Again? I wasn‘t aware you were using it at all.” a pillow would have hit Constance square in the face had she not vanished, reappearing in the chair. “Missed. Dear me, your marksmenship has certaintly been handicapped. do you also want a drink or another blanket added to you list of demands along with skipping though the woods-?”  
“Oh shut up or go away Constance I’m not in the mood!” Imogen snapped burying her head in bedding again preceeding to sulk all of thirty seconds.  
“…Silent treatments not going to work either HB.”

“…Alright I’m sorry okay? I shouldn’t have snapped…”

“…Don’t you start sulking too or we’re stuck..”

“...Look Constance I-“ Miss Hardbroom was not there. “-I didn’t mean it… HoneyBear? Hello?”  
She wasn’t even invisblely not there. She was officially not there. And Imogen was left sat curled up in bed, cursing and cold, feeling very sick and retchard indeed.


	7. Chapter 7

When the witch reappeared she found Imogen in a rather pitiful state, rubbing at her eyes like a child and sniffling loudly. She herself was feeling a little tiny twinge for leaving her on her own like that, a twinge she was stubbornly trying to ignore. It hadn’t been that long, she’d done a quick patrol of the corridors, shouted a third year and a quick visit to the kitchens. Not even an hour, not long at all.  
The flash of light made Imogen jump and she quieted down very quickly. Her eyes now even redder and wide with surprise mopping at her face as Constance felt for her forehead again (the temperature rather high for her liking) in her brisk manner and pushing a glass of water in to Imogen’s hand.   
“Constance-“  
“Fluids and vitamin c.”  
“Pardon?”  
“Fluids. And vitamin c.” Miss Hardbroom repeated, gesturing to where a freshly peeled, pithed and segmented orange on a plate sat on the tray where it hadn’t before. “You’re always complaining no one gets enough of either around here.”  
“oh. Thank you.” her patient mumbled, taking a piece. Imogen ate it small slow little bites as though worried about any sudden movements. “I thought you’d- you’d gone.”  
“I did. But I’m quite clearly back.” Constance said sulky.  “No I mean- never mind.” Imogen took gulp of water for non-Dutch Dutch courage and got her act together. “Constance, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap. Are you-?”  
“You did say and I quote, shut up or go away. Why then ask me so many questions if you wanted me to stop talking, I feel like an incompetent first year.”  
“No I shouldn’t have-“  
“No I’m well aware you shouldn’t have.”   
“Can you let me finish a -!“  
But Constance interrupted holding up hand for peace and putting her pride aside continued, “But then I shouldn’t have wound you up, which under the circumstances was unfair.”  
Her long fingers reached out, stroking Imogen’s far too warm cheek. Imogen let her, leaning in to the touch with a sigh.   
“Daft witch.”  
“Silly blonde. And I did say Apology accepted.”  
“You did not.”  
“I meant too. If you’d let me get a word in edge ways.”  
“Hang on-”  
“Didn’t you say you were sorry?”  
“Yes. Twice but I didn’t realise you’d gone poof into thin air the first time.”  
“So then apology accepted. Twice but I don’t Poof as you so kindly put it how many more times?”  
“A billion.” Imogen mumbled innocently insolent. Constance merely rolled her eyes, cupping Imogen’s face in both hands and giving a little kiss on the fore head before she sat back down. The magic from such an action might relive Imogen’s head ache somewhat for few minutes but it would lose all effect if she kept doing it at Imogen’s request. Instead the gym mistress sighed and settled back against the pillows, before she asked: “Why are you being nice?”  
“I’m not.”  
“You are. Normally you’d have started shouting and you never forgive me that easily when I’ve been an idiot before.”

“Imogen-“ Constance sighed, leaning back in the chair. She didn’t feel like explaining her self but she still felt awful for their little spat. She didn’t need to be Sherlock Holmes to see Imogen had certainly been crying in her absence. Sometimes she forgot how sensitive the stubborn blonde was and stated simply- “darling, You’re ill.”  
“Well done Miss obvious. That’s absolutely no excuse for being a prat and getting special treatment. Unless all the girls are getting kisses.”  
“You are ill. and if you think A I would do such a thing - this isn’t Mädchen in Uniform! and B if I’m giving you special treatment then you’re simply suffering from a fever induced delusion.”  
“I can’t be.” Imogen smirked. “There’s no pink elephants and you are still in a black dress.”  
“Pink elephants are for drunks and Davina’s cocktail.” Constance reminded her. “And what else would I be wearing? And don’t you dare say fairy wings and a tutu.”  
“Or that apron. Just that apron.”  
“Now you’re defiantly delusional, not even your imagination could stretch that far.”  
“Try me-“   
“Hold your tongue Miss Drill.” Constance snapped with a glower, blushing furiously, the banter stopping short at that. Imogen nodded mumbling maybe that had been too far and gulped down the remainder of her water. Constance exhaled into the awkward silence that followed. But Imogen began toying with the glass, gathering up courage to speak. “What?”  
“sorry I well…” Imogen started as if worried she might get a telling off. “I know you said you wouldn’t kiss me but …“  
“but?”   
“well when you asked if I wanted anything I was just wondering if maybe, honeybear, we could-“  
Constance glared at her again. “Imogen, if I’m not kissing you I’m certainly not doing that-!”  
“No, no! Not that’s not what I meant… could we cuddle?”   
“Cuddle?”  
“Please. Or just a hug. Or hand holding. If that’s alright? I'll behave. I promise. I won’t even get to close.”  
Miss Hardbroom thought about it, then nodded and moved her chair closer to the bed allowing Imogen to clamber over to her open arms with a smile and mumbled thank you. How funny it was she could move for a cuddle and not for a run, Constance smirked as the blonde settled herself in her mistress’ lap and cozied up to her. Another point to wind her up about later. When Imogen was well enough to tease obviously. For now she just held her and let her be.


	8. Chapter 8

It could have been very easy for them to stay like that for a while maybe for ever. However the tender moment was interrupted with a shock of something along the lines of “Ha-choo-OW-Uccksake!” as Imogen suddenly sneezed so violently into her tissues that she slipped off the witches lap and to the floor smack on her backside with a bouncing bump. 

Now there were very, very VERY few things that made the very very stern Constance giggle. But after a split seconds stunned and a moment worrying that Imogen had hurt herself, the witch found herself tickled by the situation at her feet. And then trying to stifle it only made her splutter and make matters worse, causing hot cross Imogen to complain up at her from the floor. Or at least, complain between sneezes.

“Stop it-!“ Sneeze! “It’s-“ sneeze, “I mean it C-“ sneeze, “that really-” even louder sneeze “not funny !” sneeze. Sniff.

“No no of corse it isn’t.” Constance tittered, trying to cover it with a very unconvincing clearing of her throat. The indignant look and Imogen’s ill pout made it even harder to keep a straight face. She did her best to do however; she didn’t want anything else thrown at her, especially used tissues. Imogen thankfully balled the wad into the waste paper basket rather then use the deputy head’s head for target practice.  
“that really hurt. and of all the things to laugh at.” she sniffled. Constance passed her a fresh box of tissues to make amends but Imogen still sulked Turning her back on the witch while pulling tissues from box. 

Constance once again waited Imogen had finished letting loose a string of bad coughing, blowing her nose, and mild cursing before leaning forward and slipping her hands over Imogen’s shoulders Accompanied by a few necessary words of endearment and sympathy,  
“there, there my pretty. I’m sorry for laughing.”  
Gently and firmly Constance pulled Imogen toward her again Till the cranky blonde was lent back was against her legs. She might not have Imogen’s way of massaging aways stress and knots but Constance began delicately petting and caressing the non witches shoulders and collar anyway, in what she hoped would be a relaxing manner; telling her sweet nothings and endearments too. Imogen still mopping her nose, scowled and complained as Constance found aches and stiffness but It seemed to be having the desired effect. Imogen didn’t move away at any rate and very soon quit her complaining and relaxed into the touch - when tracing circles the space between her shoulder blades, Imogen shuddered and groaned, giving in completely. Constance took that as a sign that her patient quite liked this and made a note to do such more often, even when she was better.

Another idea came to mind as her fingers brushed up the nape of Imogen’s neck and against the dull blonde locks. Feeling clean always made Constance herself feel better when she felt under the weather or down in the dumps- not that Imogen was dirty or had bad personal hygiene of corse but sometimes something as simple as shampoo and that fresh feeling could do the world of good for someone. And seeing as freezing showers were out the question for Imogen in her cold condition, Constance, with a little trivial magic at her finger tips continued her petting up over Imogen's scalp, Combing her fingers though the yellow hair right to the roots until it felt less like straw and flax under her working, and looked less like an electrified haystack too and more like the neat silky feathery pixie crop again. the waves of gentle near invisible magic continued flowing over Imogen, from her crown to her toes as the cleaning spell worked its pampering way corse and dispersed at Constance’s wordless command. the theory of maybe making Imogen feel better seemed to have worked incredibly well as Imogen leaned her head back with a sigh, her eyes eyelids fluttering shut.

“That,” she said, “is Wonderful.”


	9. Chapter 9

Smug at her own cleverness Constance lent forward and kissed Imogen’s brow again and let her fingers follow suit, tracing over her beloved’s forehead temples, cheeks , and sore throat awhile in soothing strokes for a few minutes more. when she returned to the tanned collar Imogen sighed again, louder this time then twisted around so that she was on her knees in front of the witch between her legs, Almost like a lover’s pose.  specifically their lovers pose. but usually with less clothes in the way! 

Constance froze blushing and very nearly scolded Imogen. Her head was in the witches lap yes, but instated of begging, skirt hitching, or suggestive looks, Imogen resting atop of her arms on Constance’s legs and offered up a different kind on inttermacey, Her clean hand taking one of the witch’s hands and intwined their fingers.  
“You’re the best, Constance.” she breathed with sincere affection in her voice. the sweetness of it all Surprised the older woman and Constance felt her legs turn to jelly her heart flutter so madly she felt she might melt into a puddle. Not from a bucket of water (that was a fairytale stereotype) but certainly from those sleepy green eyes and that lopsided smile. unable to come up with words she hestiently resumed stroking imogen’s hair with her free hand as Imogen closed eyes again, her breathing becoming deep and rhythmic. 

It could have been very easy for them to stay like that for a while maybe for ever.If getting pins and needles in your feet didn’t happen.

“…Imogen?” Constance warned quietly after a while,but she realising the gym-mistress might very well fall asleep on her at this rate. Imogen didn’t resound right away and the witch stopping her pampering and shook her shoulder to make sure she was awake. “Imogen, dear, you’ll get a pain in the neck sitting like that for to long.”  
“Don’t mind.” Drill practically purred.  
“and you’ll get cold on that floor.” Constance warned less quietly. she could feel the feverous heat from a warm cheek on her thigh, even though the thick tights, dress and apron she wore and that was worrying. but Imogen just shrugged,  “Don’t mind that either.”

“Well I do.” Constance snapped abruptly pulling her hands free. “come along, back in to bed. those are for sleeping in.”  
“pass me a blanket and I’ll be fine.” Imogen mumbled trying to tug it from the bed with minimum energy and with out moving from her comfy spot. 

“no. up. bed. now.” Imogen frowned and let her weight flop against the legs in protest but Miss Hardbroom refused to give in to such childishness and firmly pushed her back off her, “Now means at once Imogen.”    
That time Imogen did as she was told and begrudgingly dragging herself up. Not a moment too soon either. Much to the witches despair, the very second Imogen stood, turned away, and stretched, the younger woman was struck once again with a sudden bout of high pitched sneezing, one right after another. they attacked so violently too that she was knocked off balance and Imogen fell back onto the bed, Squeaking like a church mouse. it quite sweet if it hadn’t sounded so sickly.

“see? I told you you’d get cold again!” Constance said clucking her tongue in annoyance and could do nothing but tuck her now shivering beloved back to in bed once more.


	10. Chapter 10

Just as begrudgingly as Imogen had been forced back to bed, Constance was forced to carry on with her duties. but she promised to be back soon left the non witch bundled up in blankets up in bed to rest. What had supposed to be perhaps twenty minutes tops, somehow very quickly almost two hours. What with books to collect, letters to address, dinner for the well and soup for the sick to organise, , telephone calls to the guild and Mr Hallow to despise , break time to over see, detentions to set and students to tell off, time flew faster the a rocket powered broomstick and once again, every time Constance wanted to be with and tend to Imogen, something came up and the deputy headmistress was forced to put her duties, job and pupils first.

After all she might dislike Mildred Hubble but the girl’s migraine had been so painful and Constance wasn’t so heartless to leave her too it or let her cry herself to sleep by herself.

It was only later when tending to the other nearly done cauldrons of optional cures Constance suddenly remembered she’d left the bottle for Imogen but not given her the medicine! At least it gave her a valid excuse to revisit her mistress. well it would when the potions were done, but constance finished up as fast as she efficiently could, cursing her own stupidity; although not as much as she would be cursing Imogen when she reappeared in the non witches room with a fresh cup of tea.

“What are you doing out of bed?” 

Imogen almost fall back over onto her yoga mat in shock, a guilty busted look on her face. “I was only stretching.”

“Really? You’re supposed to be resting!” Constance shrilled, “Not tying your self in knots.”

“I was stiff. And exercise is good.” Imogen bristled scrambling to her feet and trying to look defiant. It didn’t quite work as well every limb joint a popped and her back clicked in several places.

“Not when it’s why you’re poorly in the fist place!” 

“I was bored!” Imogen complained. Constance ignored her, setting the tea down, and eyed the even more of a mess room and Imogen critically. The non-witch had changed clean clothes would have been good except she'd changed into a crop top and jogging bottoms that only came past her knees with nothing on her feet. “And before you start, I was too hot! I was sweltering under those blankets.”

“Because you have a fever. You’ll get cold. Again.” The witch complained. “Did you eat? Have you had enough to drink and have plenty of tissues?”

“Yes! And no I won’t. Will you stop fussing?” Imogen huffed and breezed past the witch picking up her trainers. “I going for a walk.”

“Imogen, you are not going out.” Constance stated in exasperation and folded her arms. "Get back to bed."

“Make me. And I wasn’t going out-out, I just want some fresh air-!” Imogen started but stopped when the door snapped shut on its own accord in her face. She tried the lock but it wouldn’t budge. Resigned to a groan she rested her forehead on it before turning back to the witch.“That, was unfair.”

“And yet quite necessary.” Constance sighed with a pointed look.

“Constance, I can’t stay cooped up in here and not do anything all day. you know I can’t.”

“You can go out later.” Constance said trying to sound firm but Imogen’s pleading look made it very hard to be. “When you are rested, fit and well again.” 

“But-!“ For the countless time that day Imogen couldn’t argue with her mistress, because a fit of sneezing took hold.


	11. Chapter 11

Constance saw it coming thankfully and vanished, reappearing behind Imogen. It was so violent a sneeze that it nearly knocked her girlfriend off her feet and if Constance hadn’t haphazardly caught her around the waist then Imogen may well bumped her head on stone door frame. 

But no harm was done and Constance steered back to bed and sat her on the mattress, pushing the box of tissues into her hands. Imogen complied with out resistance, suddenly weak as a first year’s kitten. Constance felt her forehead almost automatically then ordered the non witch to turn about and sat behind her on the bed. She pressed an ear to Imogen’s back listened to her breath but it was hard to tell if there was any improvement there either. Mostly because Imogen was shivering, even with a blanket now pulled over her lap.

“poor dearest.” She grumbled against the blades with a cross little kiss, and suddenly Imogen’s drop top, bra and legging fell away, and instead Imogen was dressed in another set of thick warm jimjams and thick socks. 

“Oh!”

“There. Told you so.” Constance huffed picking up the cloths and carless tossed them across the room where they landed neatly folded on the chair. It seemed odd to use spells to clothe Imogen for a change rather then just undress her. Imogen smiled snuffley as she mopped and blew her nose.

“thank you honey.”  
“Imogen! I know you’re ill but there’s no need for that sort of language!”

Imogen blinked then frowned, “I said thank you! Thank you. T, h a-CHOO!! N. K. ” 

“Bless you. Oh you meant 'thank you'?"  
"That's what I said!"

"It certainly didn’t sound like it.” Constance sniffed. 

“Get your hearing checked then.” Imogen sniffed back.

“Hardly my fault if you sound so bunged up it’s nigh impossible to understand a word you’re saying.”

“Alright alright!” Imogen groaned. “Point taken. You don’t have to be so rude about it.”

“Kindly don’t get so defensive with me, dear.”

“Don’t be such a hypocrite!” Imogen started but her voice cracked and it turned in to a coughing fit into her fist. Constance rubbed her back in an attempt to help and calm her, and continued to do so as Imogen got he breath back.

“Enough of this.” the blonde huffed. She clambered across Constance’s lap and the mattress to her bedside table and rummaging in the draw dug out the ‘normal’ world's pill shaped attempt at stopping a cold and flu in its tracks.

“Ah, don’t even try it.” Constance said, snatching the blister packet from Imogen before she could push out a capsule . “You’ll take no such thing.”

“Why the hell not?” Imogen whined, jumping up from the bed. She tried to steal it back only for it to vanish from her finger tips, Constance making it into nothing. Imogen threw her hands up in annoyance and sulked. But Constance was quick to sooth her before the blonde got too much like a cranky crocus again. 

“Imogen I mean it. It won’t help or make much difference.” she said softly, moving behind her again and slipping her arms around the younger woman’s waist. “I’m surprised you’ve not already built up an immunity too them, you take them too often.”

Indeed there’d only been a couple left in the packet. 

“That’s because it’s freezing in this castle.” Imogen huffed, snuggling back into the touch and leeching off her body heat. She tipped her head back to look up at, well, frown up at the witch. “What am I supposed to do then?”

Constance nodded to the remedy and Imogen finally noticed the bottle by her bedside that the witch had left earlier.


	12. Chapter 12

“You’ve come prepared.” Imogen stated, but with her nose it was hard to tell if it was in sarcasm or surprise. 

“Naturally. I wasn’t about to let you or the others suffer when there’s a perfectly good potion to be used as an aid what ever ails. And unlike non-which remedies that are just sold to sell other products, I know that it works first time.” Constance said smugly. “Ask the second years if you don’t believe me.”

“That was there before wasn’t it?” Imogen frowned. “It hasn’t just appeared by magic has it?”

“It was. it slipped my mind earlier to give it you.” the witch admitted. 

“Oh good I’ve not gone completely mad yet. Your magic I can understand but if things start turning up at their own accord-” Imogen’s eyes narrowed and Constance found herself on the receiving end of a green glower. “wait- how do you know I’ll take it?”

“Force it down your throat?” She replied. Imogen jumped, twisting around in the witches arms to complain at her properly but Constance reassured her with a laugh. “No, I’m teasing my darling. Sorely tempting as that is I’m not that horrible.” Imogen still looked a little sceptical, even as Constance rubbed her pyjama clad upper arms. “Honest. I want you to get better. Not hate me forever.”

"Really?” 

Constance nodded then winced as Imogen made a noise more fitting for cooing over small adorable things. “Why HB,I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

“You know that isn’t true.” she scowled and then realised she still had a hand caressing Imogen’s shoulders, still stood in their funny sort of embrace. Worse she felt her heart hitch as Imogen moved away, and had to silently berate herself for being so silly. 

“I guess I’ll take anything so long as it works.” Imogen sighed sitting down on the bed.

“I’ll have to get that in writing!” the witch exclaimed. 

“Nothing weird is going to happen is it? I’m not going to end up blue, trans-dog-rifcated or floating in midair?“

“That last one was one time!” Constance snapped. “And no, nothing ‘Weird’ will happen. The girls have taken it without anything unusual happening.”

“Promise?” 

“Oh for goodness sake-!”

“Promise?” Imogen insisted. 

“Promise. Cauldronite’s honour. There is a slight side effect- don’t roll your eyes at me like that!” the witch scowled, as Imogen did so. “There is a SLIGHT side effect in that the potion will give you a slight rush of energy for perhaps ten minutes as it gets into your bloodstream and starts to take full effect. Later you’ll feel drowsy again but then you more or less ‘sleep it off’ as the potion gets too work.”

“More sleeping? I thought the ten hours last night was more then enough.” Imogen chucked. Then stopped. “…You’re not laughing.”

“Well it wasn’t funny.” Constance said folding her arms.

“No but you’ve got a really serious look on your face all of a sudden.” Imogen frowned. “What is it?” 

“…What do you mean you slept last night?”

“Well, because I did. Didn't I?” Imogen shrugged. Constance took a deep breath and magically moving the chair to be closer to Imogen, sat down. She reached across and straitened, well toyed with the collar of Imogen's shirt for a moment, wondering whether it was a good idea to tell her or not. But it was perhaps for the best Constance decided. Especially considering the worried look that now graced Imogen’s features. But this wasn’t going to be easy to explain.


	13. Chapter 13

“Is something wrong?” Imogen caught her hand, breaking Miss Hardbroom’s train of thought (although she forgot everything for a second because of those dammed eyes) but in anwcer to the question Constance shook her head. “Please say something then? You’re kind of starting scaring me and not in the good way.”

“It’s not scary as such.” Constance huffed, “and it should be, then please say something-”

“Constance, what is it?” Imogen badgered. Their fingers entwined, now in the space between them and a quick glance at their joined hands pale and tan gave Constance courage and resolve, silly really for such a small action and a small thing.

“Are you sure you just slept last night? Nothing else? and just last night?” Imogen nodded slowly looked rather unsure of where this was heading so Constance asked, “Do you know what day it is?” 

Imogen laughed at the silly question. 

“Yes, it’s Wednesday.”

“No, it’s Friday.”

“No!”

“Yes.”

“What do you mean it’s Friday?”

“I mean that its Friday today because today is Friday.”

“Are you sure-?”  
“Of corse I’m sure, I’m not the one bedridden by flu!”

Imogen was stunned to say the least. Mostly because she didn’t say anything, to the point it started to scare the witch. 

“Poppet?” she asked, giving Imogen’s shoulder two sharp little jabs with her free hand, wishing she hadn’t snapped again.   
It caused Imogen to shut her mouth blink and and take a deep breath in again at least.

“But- it can’t be. I didn’t-” the non witch said finally when she found her voice again, although she didn’t find it in one piece. “No. no you’re kidding, I remember getting in to bed last night!”

“If you remember wearing the grey trousers and a vest to bed, and me telling you to get some rest before I left to take care of supper, then you only remember Tuesday evening.” Constance insisted. “After all what pyjamas were you wearing when you woke up today?”

“You’re kidding me.” Imogen said again; abet quieter and slightly muffled by the thumb of the other hand she had to her mouth as she worried, biting down on the nail as she tried to process the information. 

“I’m not.” Constance said, keeping her own emotions in check. It must feel awful to loose the days without a clue. She leaned forward in her chair but resisted the temptation to push that hand away to discourage her lovers nail biting. It was an awful habit yes but instead she gave Imogen’s leg with her free hand a squeeze trying to pull her back to the present. “I wish I were. although it’d be a cruel joke.”

“So ,You’re saying I’ve slept most of today, all of yesterday, the day before?” Imogen asked looking back up at her. “And, I’ve been asleep since Tuesday?”

“Well sort of, on and off I suppose.” The witch said and then with a sigh,“Not soundly or for just ten hours at any rate.”

“But- what about my classes?” Imogen said becoming animated again, pulling her hands away and pacing about, “We’re supposed to be training for the next basketball match! And the first year volleyball-?”

“They've been taken care of. Imogen- Imogen calm down you need to rest!” Constance said following her as they paced up and down like a caged tiger.

“Anymore and I’ll go into hibernation!” Imogen shot back, more out of the frustration then anything. She swiped a pillow on to the floor in a temper and kicked her yoga mat. It curled up by itself like a hedgehog, scared of another kick. “That’s three days! Three bloody days! I'm never sick! And then i go and loose ACHOOO! Three days! And I still keep ruddy sneezing!”

Constance didn’t reply, not really, but softly said “I know, dear I know.” over and over again to everything the none witch said as Imogen paced and cursed as much as a non-witch could until her shoulders slumped and her complaints faded and they eventually came to a stop together. Who had whose arm didn’t really matter because they somehow ended up facing each other anyway. 

“How’d that even happen?” Imogen mumbled back. Constance winced. This would be the worst bit. For her at least, she wasn’t sure how Imogen would take it.


	14. Chapter 14

With a sigh, Imogen slumped further and rested her forehead on the taller woman’s shoulder. or meant too. it was more like a gentle head butt. but despite wincing, she still stayed close in there half embrace as Constance stroked her back. It was hard to accurately tell how hot Imogen’s forehead was through her dress. But Constance doubted it would have cooled much in the last ten minutes. 

Imogen then frowned (Constance could feel it wrinkle her dress) and looked up at her with concern. “And what about you? Have you been looking after everyone by yourself? The whole time? Are you sure you’re alright?”

Constance rolled her eyes and reassured her.   
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve had Miss Bat’s, Ms Tapioca’s and Mr Blossom’s help. Until I sent him to the sick bay. The Doctor from the village came Wednesday- although that wasn’t much help at all. And the girls who aren’t have been ill have pitching in to here and there.” 

“Pussycat, you didn’t answer my question.” Imogen said, straightening up.  
“which? You asked several, I’m sure I’ve answered a couple. I am perfectly fine.” Constance insisted. Then changed the subject back before the courage she’d gathered evaded her again. She took a deep breath and held her at arms length, despite Imogen's fingers tugging on her belt. “and you also asked how did that even happen, correct?”

Imogen nodded.

“Well to state the obvious you have flu.”  
“That’s not what I meant and you know it!”  
“Well it’s true. Don’t pout at me like that, the wind will change and you’ll be stuck like that.”  
Imogen made another face, complete with tongue out.   
“You said I’ve been asleep since Tuesday.” she repeated. “On and off. What do you mean?”

Constance didn’t respond right away. Or even look her in the eye for a moment. She reached up and swept her fingers over Imogen’s hair, smoothing a stray flick back into place then said “Imogen…dear, at some points you were very feverish. It hasn't even broken yet. But you didn’t sleep a solid day or night straight.” she paused again and tucked another blonde behind her girlfriend’s ear. "You were awake some times, although not always awake to the world. We’ve had several conversations but I think you may have forgotten them. You were delirious on one occasion and when you did sleep it wasn’t soundly…”   
Truth when unpleasant, hurts.   
“Well- volleyballs.” 

Again, Imogen’s shoulders slumped and she looked away, miserably staring off into space. Constance now felt just as down in the dumps. Even as she trailed her hand back over Imogen’s jaw and Imogen lent her cheek into the gentle touch. It didn't improve ether of their moods.  
“Are you sure you don’t remember any of it?” She pressed.  
“I’m not sure what I’m supposed to remember.” Imogen shrugged. She offered the witch a glance and attempt at a smile before moving away. She sat back down on the bed where she Put her head in her hands and rubbed her tired face. 

“Don’t strain yourself. It’s not surprising under the circumstances.” Constance fussed, sitting down next to her. between her fingers, constance saw her frowning trying to concentrate. It didn’t seem help matters and the phase “Trying to hold water with a sieve” came to mind.  
If Imogen couldn’t remember there would be no need to jog her memory and then perhaps Constance herself could forget about it. but judging how Imogen looked up at the witch again, that was becoming less of a possibility.


	15. Chapter 15

“I don’t know when but I think I had a dream” Imogen said, unsure of herself. “Well a nightmare really. The woods became this jungle with vines and snakes. I felt trapped. and you were there-”  
“I was here.” Constance corrected.  
“You were?”   
“Yes. You’d gotten so tangled in your blankets so that may explain the snakes. It was just a nightmare.”   
“I know. But I couldn’t reach you. I kept running and- then. then...” Imogen said trying to hard to think. She’d looked to the witch for guidance but Constance seemed focused on her shoes all of a sudden.  
“You were shouting.” Constance admitted. “In your sleep.”  
“Shouting what?” Imogen asked. “When?”

“Just after three in the morning. That nightmare- That’s why I came to check on you. Then when you woke up you didn’t know where you were."   
Or who I was, she thought, but didn’t say. Her heart had broken when Imogen’s dull eyes had looked right through her, without a spark of recognition. 

Yet those same green eyes looked at her now as if she was the only other woman in the world.   
“I’m sorry I woke you Honey bear.” “I wasn’t asleep.” “yes but you’ve enough on your plate without baby sitting me.” the blond insisted. But Constance let it slide, wishing she’d held her tongue and so skipped over all the thrashing. and the violent shivering. and all the whimpers, screaming and crying that Imogen had also done in her sleep during the past three days.

“it was nothing more then a silly nightmare. one induced by illness but even then it isn't your fault is it?” she said hating how her voice shook.   
“No but.“  
“good, now hush. and Come here.”  
Constance was not normally an affectionate person, even with Imogen. And wasn’t normally her who insisted such a tight hug. Although that maybe more because this one was for own benefit then the puzzled but still willing Imogen’s.   
“Pasta.” Imogen stated out of the blue. “Frank brought me a bowl of mrs tapioca pasta with her special tomato sauce.” Constance beamed, mirroring Imogen’s grin.

“He did. you hadn't eaten in a while. I’m just pleased to have you back.” she reliteratated, feeling the tension in her chest ebb. 

“It’s good to be back.” Imogen murmured in reply, relaxing against her and cuddle closer. they stayed least for a little while. before Imogen wriggled back to look at Constance eye to eye. “You came check in on me?”  
“Yes? As often as I could.”  
Imogen smile widened, touched at Constance’s thoughtfulness.   
“see, this is why you’re my favourite witch.” “You’re a teacher you’re not supposed to have favourites.” Constance said sternly but was unable to stop the chuckle in her voice. At then frowned, “Shame you have such an awful motor mouth on you when you’re ill.”

“Why, what did I say?” Imogen scoffed rather taken aback. “Can’t be any worse then you after every time you get concussion.”  
“Oh yes it was!” Constance shot back in a huff, standing up from the bed. “It was much worse. You were babbling on like a brook. And in front of mister blossom too! I’ve never been so embarrassed!”

“Why, what did I say?” Imogen repeated and persisted. Constance glaaared at her. “You know that scaring thing? you’re doing it again.”   
“I am not repeating it. And if you had said that sort of filth while in usual peak of health I would have been furious with you. Or if you ever call me that again for that matter! ”  
“You’re furious now. and how do I know not to say it again if you wont’ tell me what I said?”

Unfortunately, that made and awful lot of sense and Constance very very very reluctantly gave in.

“Fine You called me-“ She started arms folded, everything about her tight and sour. “I can’t.”  
“yes you can.” Imogen encouagred, even though she was nervous. Constance’s cheeks where brilliant red in ether fury or embarrassment. “I called you what?”

“You- you-“ Constance sputtered. “You called me your Huggle Bunny, alright?!


	16. Chapter 16

“…Huggle …bunny?” Imogen slowly repeated in disbelief.  
“Yes.” Constance huffed. ”Of all the stupid things. It couldn’t be HoneyBear or Pussycat or dear or something that was sweet without being disgusting, no it had to be- well…”  
“Huggle Bunny?”  
“Yes, that! It’s horrid.” Constance scowled. But Imogen already had that mischievous grin on her face and Constance could tell she was going to bitterly regretting telling her.  
“I think it suits you,” Imogen simpered kneeling up on the bed and pulling her lover back against her by the chain belt.   
“No, it doesn’t! And don’t even think about it-!” Constance warned but too late and the last word came as a yelp. Because Imogen had already span her about then caught her in a bear hug pinning arms to her side.   
“Oh? don’t you like being my huggle bunny, honey bear?” Imogen said in a teasing manner as Constance tried to scrabble back up. “Miss DRILL!”  
“Maybe I should call you it more often! You are adorable when you get flustered, Huggle bunny.”  
“I do not and i don't like it one bit! it was bad enough in front of mister blossom!” Constance seethed. “Get off me!”

The Witch finally found her footing and straightened up. Imogen’s arm’s hung lose at her hips for a moment then flopped to her sides wilted under the glare as Constance shrugged her off her chest heaving and on the verge of leaving on the spot she now stood. Until she felt Imogen move to stand a bit behind her.

“Constance wait-.” 

Once again again Constance wondered how Imogen could grate her nerves so so much; while at the same time being one of the best people to come into her life and more importantly into her heart. Maybe Imogen knew her too well. Or maybe it was because she herself was still getting used to willing compromise and hearing Imogen say sorry, rather then the pair of them hurting one another verbally as they had done for so long. Knowing the non witch meant it, Constance forced herself to be calm again.

Or started too. She’d nearly thought of two happy things and anticipated a third as Imogen moved to hug her from behind, gently this time when a sudden sharp knocking interrupted the lovers quarrel and any chance of make up.  
“Yes! What is it?!” Constance snapped, forgetting who’s bedroom she was in, much to the the surprise of Mrs Tapioca.  
“Oh Missa Hardbroom! Ima just collecting the lunch plates.” she said gesturing to one on pe teachers’s desk.Imogen scurried to fetch and hand over. “But I’m glad to see you here. Missa Bat, She’s been looking everywhere for a you!”  
“She can’t have looked farther then her cupboard then.” Imogen huffed and sank down to sit upon the bed with her well toned legs under her. Constance glared at them both. Both Imogen and Maria that is.  
“Can it wait? Or better yet can’t she deal with whatever it is she’s after me for?” but Maria was clearly at the end of her own tether and squared up to the deputy.   
“Ifa you want to deal with her too then be my guest! I’ve no time to make more fruit salad though-“   
“Alright, I’m going!” Constance snapped tried to look professional but it felt very awkward, “Duty calls, Miss Drill. We’ll sort that matter out at a later d-date.”   
“Right, yes ba-Miss Hardbroom.” Imogen said, as if they’d been discussing strictly serious teacher business for teachers nothing else. And HB finally vanished from sight…

The trouble with vanishing from sight however doesn't always mean one has vanished entirly. especially when one is taking one it slowly for one last lingering look back while simultainisouly putting off dealing with Miss Bat. As it was, Constance was there to here Mrs Tapioca talk about her as if she wasn’t there.  
“Work work work. She’ll work her self sick that one, what a cross patch” and worse to Imogen, “And how are you today, little miss honey bunny?”  
Imogen cringed. A game of Chinese-whispers had obviously occurred between Frank and Mrs Tapioca at some point. With some of the main details getting muddled up. But it was enough to freeze the air around them as a red faced Miss Hardbroom furiously swept from the room in a of static and sparks.


	17. Chapter 17

Three quarters of an hour, one dress change, a clean apron, some fresh air and a cup of strong tea later Constance made her way on foot back to Imogen’s quarters. She was still cross about the whole Huggle-bunny thing and Mrs Tapioca’s comments. But having to deal Miss Bat, a tupperware box of worms, a rude phone call from Mr Hallow’s assistant and the upchucked contents of now a now ill Maud’s stomach had put things in perspective. Yes Imogen had wound her up. But then again Imogen was sick and also the only one not treating her like a govenourness or a maid, so Constance, not wanting to fall out twice in one day resolved to resolve this new issue.

She found her Imogen where she’d left her this time, abet  slouched on the wrong end of the bed and with a pink scrubbed clean face and brushed hair. Constance was mildly surprised. She had thought Imogen would sneak out when her back was turned or fall back in to another long restless sleep. But no, not sleeping. or working out. Not doing anything else actually other then idaely rolling a tennis ball from ones hand to another like a tiny tennis match. The witch watched for a few moments before clearing her throat making Imogen jolt out of her daze and drop the ball.

“Hey,” Imogen sat up and smiled a little at her girlfriend as she entered but her whole demeanour still looked over cast. although she could just be queasy. “How was Davina?”

“The usual.” Constance dismissed as she felt Imogen’s forehead for any sign of her getting any worse or better. It was becoming a habit, just like the way she brushed the fringe aside and dropped a kiss in the blonde hair hoping it would help was. She was undecided if it was warmer then she last checked, but she disliked the way Imogen’s head lolled a little as she turned her head to the touch.“Now, I know that look. you’re over thinking something.”

“It’s nothing.” Imogen croaked.

“It’s a funny looking ‘Nothing’.”  
“It’s a funny nothing look on your face as well.” Imogen shot back then sneezed. twice. “What is it?”

“shall we skip the questions and just get straight to the point?” Constance complained. “Out with it then. What’s on your mind?”

“you first.” Imogen replied. “it’s you who stormed off. Don’t think I didn’t feel it.”

 

“But-! Imogen-. Alright fine.” Again Imogen was aggravating her and Constance had to force herself to the resolution she’d decided on five minutes ago“…you know I don’t mind  _most_  nick names. Or pet names- I just don’t like them being used in front of others.” She grumbled, straightening her dress and adjusting the fastening on her collar as though they were the source of their irritation before finally admitting. “They’re ours. Only between us. But there is a limit to what is tolerable.”

Imogen nodded. “…The bunny thing- I guess it is rather daft. I was only teasing.”

“Yes well. you can use if you really must.” Constance said through very gritted teeth. “Just not often. or everyday.”

“Don’t be stupid-!”

“I’m stupid?! she snapped but it came out pinched and Imogen flinched. “I was trying to come to a compromise!”

“Yes but you don’t like it, so I won’t use it!” 

“That’s a relief  I must say!”

Imogen glared up at her and Constance glared right back. So much for us both calming down Constance thought to herself.

Imogen was the first too look away and lay back on the bed turning on her side. she looked how constance felt, already exhausted with the topic and snapping at each other. And Imogen’s attitude still didn’t sit well with her. Nor did admitting her own faults to her self but still knelt down so she was eye level with the gym mistress and said, “Look, I shouldn’t have gotten cross with you over it. Earlier. and now i suppose. I know you didn’t mean to say anything in front of Mr Blossom so-… Well. You know.”

 

“…Yes I know.” there was an attempt at an attempted smile at least. Constance returned it tracing circles on Imogen’s shoulder with her thumb. “…I’m sorry too.” then Imogen looked away again her breath catching, curling up on the mattress.

“Well?” the witch asked, standing up again. Imogen blinked.  


“Well what, Const?”

“Well what’s brought this on?” Constance gestured. “This melancholy?”

“Not-“

“We’ve clearly established its a something rather then a nothing Pussycat get on with it. Are you feeling ill? have you stomach ache?”

Imogen groaned and shook her head.

“Then whatever’s the matter?” Constance pressed, frustrated at this line of inquiry, especially when met with a beat of silence. she rolled her eyes and took a seat next to her beloved on the bed again, giving up for the time being and resumed the one sided shoulder rub.

“…Have I made it obvious?” Imogen mumbled after a while.

“What do you mean ‘it’?” Constance asked trying very hard not to get rattled. Imogen bit her lip.

“Between us?” she whispered visibly shrinking and curling up tighter to in her little ball.

“Not to me you haven’t. Imogen? Darling what are you talking about?”

“Us.” Imogen said, more into her hand stopped biting her lip to start worrying at her thumb nail again. “Constance, have I made us, you and me, obvious? To Frank? And to Mrs Tappioca? Have I outed us?” 

“oh.”

 

This time Constance did push Imogen’s hand away from her face and took hold of it, sliding her hand in hers.

 

“No. No of corse not.” she said softly. “At least I don’t think so. Why? Did Mrs tapioca say something to you?” Imogen shook her head.  “well then. They’ve said nothing to me and nor has Miss Bat. You might not be able to live it down but you were spouting all sorts of other nonsense so I shouldn’t worry. ” A silly thing to say as her girlfriend clearly was worried.

 

“But  what if I have I outed us and they’ve just not said anything to us?” Imogen persisted sitting up and looking very upset. “would he tell the others do you think? Would he tell Miss Cackle?”

 

While not comfortable with being secretive, the both of them had agreed early on they would prefer keeping the relationship quiet, especially from the girls. but there was no escaping the inevitable.

 

“I don’t think so. Mr Blossom, he is somewhat oblivious to the world around him I doubt he’s put the maths together. and He sees you as practically family I doubt he’d do or say anything deliberately vindictive. and even if he did accidentally,” Constance sighed. “well. no use crying over a spilt potion.”

 

“But what if he says something to a student?” Imogen fretted, pulling away. “It would’t have to be much. You know what this place is like with gossip! Parents might disagree and go to the governors-”

 

Constance pulled her back closer and held her snug at her side.

while it was still a big risk to be two women teachers to be in a relationship at an all witches boarding school, it would have been suicidal to be together if they’d been somewhere ‘normal’. The trouble with the non witch education was they took a very dim view to any thing that was the least bit queer, often unjustly linking it to deviance, traumatising students and preying on children. Cackles might not be perfect but at least the bigoted fights only tended to fight about class and blood. and gender if the wizards stuck their noses in. But, while witches turned a blind eye to that sort of thing, there were far higher percentage of non magical teachers loosing- or to say bullied out of- their jobs then magical because of their sexuality, especially when certain newspapers got involved and blew things out of proportion to sell the story.  Constance hated how upset it made Imogen feel; especially as a pe teacher she already faced a stereotype and the fear that followed. even if being a lesbian might not be such an issue in the academy as it would be at say Hevershum High for example.

 

 

“Hush. Let them take if they must, I’ll scare them and give them detentions. who believes school rumours anyway? we’ll call it slander. Let the governors call it scandalous too boot as well.” Constance insisted, “ and as for the other members of staff I like to think they wouldn't give a jot. Or actually be happy for us.”

 

Imogen clung to her tighter letting Constance fuss over her. “Y-you think so?”

 

“Yes. Or too happy for us even knowing our luck. But anyway, if some how we are now out of the closet,” Constance continued making sure tell the most Important part to Imogen’s face. “I am Not prepared to be forced to give up on you on us or my job, thank you.”

 

At her words, Imogen suddenly grinned. for a moment she looked her normal Reassured sunny healthy self, and she all but sprung on the dazzled witch to try and steal a kiss...


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Forgot to update here sorry! cheers to princesssammi and dreamisnliliac again

Or tried to anyway. Wether she was going a full smooch or been to pepper Constance’s face in little kisses didn't matter. Constance intercepted it, a quick finger ‘shushing’ the non-witches lips! Just.

 

“Ah-ah-ah, What did I Say?!” Constance scolded, pushing Imogen back onto her pillows. But Imogen just sneezed twice, laughed and sat right back up. Then on the witches lap, wrapping her arms around Constance's frame. Despite again being denied a kiss, she was still giddy with relief from Constance's pep talk. 

 

Constance returned the embrace, even while still telling her off. “Recovery first. Kissing and heavy petting later!”

 

“I know! I will be holding you to that. But the sooner I’m better, the sooner I can have a proper cuddle with you. Then give you a special ‘thank you’ and LOTS of attention for looking after me!” Imogen chattered, giving the witch’s backside a cheeky squeeze. One that would have earned a wizard a slap, or zap, in the chops. “And then for looking after everyone else too oh and a very special kiss for what you just said. and one well because you’re HB and then more for luck-“

 

“Yes, yes I get the picture! You promised to behave, remember?” Constance tried to remind her. 

 

And remind herself how on earth had fallen for such an loveable yet irritating person. And tried to remain firm. And forget about how a large part of herself had ached for this sort of causal yet affectionate intimacy. She'd missed it for the best part of the past week. 

 

AND ignore another small but loud part that was practically demanding the different sort of intimacy she’d also missed. Imogen (who was still wriggling in her lap, bodily pressed against her and promising things like special kisses and putting ideas into Constance’s head) was not helping at all on that fount!

 

“I am behaving!”

 

“You are not and you know it!”

 

“And you’re blushing.” Imogen said in a singsong voice leaning back. Defiantly not helping, even in thick pyjamas and a stuffy nose. “I told you, you are adorable when you get flustered, Honey bear.”

 

“You’re a fool who should shut up and take your medicine!” Constance huffed her cheeks aflame, trying not squirm or get her knickers in a twist. She could have lent over to grab the bottle and spoon but decided to summon it. It was taking a lot of her self-control and discipline not to go back on what she’d just said about heavy petting. “in fact you should have taken it ages ago.”

 

 

“Oh fine, give it here then, Miss bossy-boots. Keep your dress on.” Imogen said. And laughed even more when Constance handed her the spoon so fast she almost shoved it in Imogen’s face. “goodness, Constance you’re so easy to get all het up over a little flirting,” she teased between a few coughs into her fist. “anyone would think i’d never even kissed you before!”

 

“And anyone my dear, would think I’d never given you several screaming orgasms before.” Constance shot back and succeed in levelling the playing field. 

 

Imogen was surprised. Shocked even. Enough to slip backwards landing on the bed on her bottom. Constance grabbed her legs and pulled her across her lap again just in time to stop her falling on the floor, again. And again found her self trying not to laugh and failing to do so. Imogen in her jim-jams, limbs at all angles all agog at her lovers into her sweet hearts very well-spoken slightly filthy mouth? priceless. then Imogen started giggling too in-between little sneezes and constance found her self shaking and spluttering with the effort of not laughing… 

“Oh boooy.” right up until there was a low Groan from Imogen. 

“Poppet?” 

Imogen didn’t give a straight answer. Or even a gay one for that matter.

She just mumbled, covering her face with her hands. “I should not have done that.”

“Done what?” Constance was instantly alert and onto nurse mode, judging by the pitch of her voice. “Imogen, have you pulled you back again? Do you feel sick?”

“No. worse. I feel-oh hell.” 

Imogen let out another noise as constance pushed her hands away from her face. A very pink face. The noise had intact been a whine, and constance realised that the earlier groan had been a groan of frustration, not of pain. Sexual frustration. 

“Hell!” Imogen said again grabbing for the box of tissues. “I shouldn’t have wound you up because that-Achoo! That now I'm-oh you know dam well what.“

“Now …you’re all wound up.” HB concluded, in her slowest sultry voice with quite an evil looking glint in her eye. The shoe was most defiantly on the other foot now. Especially as she lent over Imogen and pressed against her just a smidgin more then really necessary. Her hand brushed up Imogen’s thigh and squeezing her backside through the thick cotton as she breathed, “My goodness, Miss Imogen you’re so easily… HOT, and Bothered.”

“Oh don’t TEASE!” Yes, constance was against her in a lovely way. But spoon in one hand tissues in the other, Imogen was stuck. And the witch was not indulging Imogene’s feeble buck of the hips or pout. And then before she could try and kiss her again, Constance suddenly drew back completely, sitting up as rigid as ever causing Imogen to swear. 

 

“Seriously?! Please it’s not playing fair!”

“Fair?” Constance raised an eyebrow at that. “you started it,” she said, indifferently. “right from the off with all your vulgar comments.” 

“No, you started it,” Imogen huffed, “with your dresses and laughing and playing nurse and generally being sexy.”

“I didn't realise it was so easy to turn you on, I shall bear that in mind.” Constance sniffed. Imogen looked away still pouting. “you really that concupiscent?”

“What the hell does that even mean?”

“Think about it dear.”

Imogen blushed and flopped on to the pillow, again not giving a gay straight or bi answer. Just practical whinged or growled, whichever in annoyance which gave way to a rather pitiful little “yes.”

Constance sighed and decided to leave off embarrassing her further. “If you weren’t ill I would say a cold shower was in order.”

 

“If I wasn’t ill you-Achoo! You'd be joining me.” Imogen pointed out. Then frowned, peering at constance. “you’re blushing again.”

“So are you.” Constance snapped become very focused her feet all of a sudden.

“Your cheeks have suddenly gone all pink again. Have you joined me in the gutter?”

“No! Well,… you said about myself joining you for a shower…perhaps a bath, when your better?” Constance admitted and looked back up at her. “I can’t wait.”

“Oooh. oh no, don’t be adorable again, honey,” Imogen moaned, now visually squirming. “I can’t take you being adorable as well being hot.”

“I’m not adorable! We've been over that,” constance snapped. Then cleared her throat and offered awkwardly with a gesture of her spell fingers. “although darling, d-do you want me to-er- you know. Or the quick fix spell? Or you could use that er “Wand’ of yours.”

 

Imogen flushed even more somehow, going so red her fever looked to be back. She let a sigh and wiggled back against the pillow. 

“adorable.”

“Im not-!”

“ You are. But no, none of them thank you. Not if you aren’t going to kiss me at the same time!” Imogen sulked, idly playing with Constance fingers. Then explained, “I love kissing you, constance. It won’t feel right. I can wait…although I might start begging for them later, who knows.”

“It's normally quite a show. Especially with the begging.” Constance said. 

 

The deadpan delivery was ruined by both the scowl on Imogene’s face and Constance’s disappearing act as a pillow that was throw at her head.

“You rotten minx! That's-Achoo! That is not helping!”

“Neither is throwing things like a toddler.” Constance said repairing on Imogene’s other side, making her jump. “try to think of something that doesn’t involve you getting lucky in the bedchamber then.”

“Well, it’s very hard to think unsexy thoughts when you’re in the room, you know.”

 

Constance disagreed. Then cringed. “Do you remember when Mr Rowan-Webb showed off the Camelot boy’s ‘holiday snaps’?”

“Connie what the?—!”

“Don't swear! And it was the first off putting thing that sprung to mind!”

“Yes, but did you have to remind me?! Now I really do feel sick!”

“Well, it is, you have to admit, the definition of ‘unsexy’.” Constance huffed.

 

“Hmm, guess you’re right. At least he didn’t wear budgie smugglers.” Imogen said. Then shuddered at THAT image.

“I’m not even going to ask and I don’t even want to know.” Constance warned. 

 

Imogen tried to make a witty comeback. But sneezed instead and so left it at an eye roll, coughing a little. Constance reached out sharply, checking Imogen’s temperature.

 

“Speaking of sick,I think its high time-“ She started.

“We stopped messing around getting sidetracked by how gorgeous you are and how much I want to- I?— ACHOO!” Imogen cut in.

“I was not the one messing around you’re the Over romantic interrupting fool around here! You need medicine, not kisses.” Constance hissed retrieving the bottle from her apron pocket.

“I’d sooner have the second. But the sooner I’m better, remember.“ Imogen croaked sat up so she was facing her on the bed. With a pop Constance pulled out the cork from the bottle neck. A weird and wispy tiny glittering plume of steam followed.

“ I do remember. And I shall hold you to all your promises, you know. All the better the sooner then.” Constance replied with a smirk that matched Imogen’s own grin.

“Keep the dress and apron on though.” Imogen said with a wink. She handed the spoon back and constance poured a measure the oily pastel purple sludge on to the spoon. She double checked the look of it’s colour and consisentcy for the hundredth time that day out of habit. But was quietly proud it was absolutely perfect. All's well that ends well then. And as Imogen said the sooner the better she thought gleefully.

But constance’s Smug expression slacked a little when she saw the look on Imogen’s face. Imogen was clearly having second thoughts…


End file.
